


I Remember Orihara Izaya

by Bad_Romance



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M, and mostly one-sided, chill guys the oc does no impact the story, completely non-invasive oc, i hate obnoxious ocs, shizaya is light, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6761581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bad_Romance/pseuds/Bad_Romance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A nameless, faceless student recalls growing up as Izaya's classmate. This is the story of Orihara Izaya as this student remembers it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Remember Orihara Izaya

I Remember Orihara Izaya

I was never friends with the guy, but I can’t say I remember him having any specific friends at all for the longest time.

We’ve been going to the same schools since elementary purely by coincidence and I doubt he’d noticed me anymore than I had noticed him at the time, maybe less. Throughout the majority of our accidental lives together he’d never done anything to really stay in my focus and our realities remained completely separate; however, when reflecting as an adult with the power of hindsight there are many things I can speculate about Orihara Izaya.

Though it might seem odd, I believe he was most invisible in elementary school. Sure, Orihara-kun stood out as a star student: smart, athletic, vice president of the student council, numerous speaking and poetry awards, and popular among the girls. But, just as that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t really matter at the time. Everybody liked him enough, but he was easy to forget. He never fell into a particular group and he was easy to miss in the masses of students. No one would ever go out of their way to exclude him, I can remember playing with him during a few recess when he’d occasionally ask to play with my group of friends and he was always welcome – but hardly missed when he chose to play with somebody else the next day.

However, like any normal child I was self-centered and didn’t really pay any attention to things that did not affect me. It is only as I reflect that I do remember some odd moments with Orihara-kun that went over my head as a kid.

 

I remember one day while I was playing tag with my friends we started arguing about “safety-zones” or something. Eventually one of us noticed Orihara-kun watching us from a nearby tree. Naturally, we thought he was just being shy and asked him if he wanted to play. He smiled politely and said “No thank you, I think watching this is more fun. You’re not really playing anyway.”  

I remember one rainy morning three girls ran into the class crying to the teacher because they saw a dead frog on the sidewalk. It took some time for the teacher to calm them down, and when their cries dimmed into soft sniffs she told them: “It’s okay, I’m sure that frog is very happy in heaven now.”

Orihara-kun, who had been watching the scene at the front of the room passively, blinked and said too quietly for the girls or the teacher to hear: “I don’t think so.” The boy that sat on his right turned to gawk at him a second before blurting out:

“Huh? Do you think that when you die there’s nothing?”

Orihara-kun frowned, almost as though he felt like the boy had intruded on a conversation that he had not been invited to join.

“I never said there was nothing.” He told the boy. To this day I cannot tell you what he meant by that.

I remember on the day of our elementary school graduation everyone’s parents had shown up to take pictures with and embarrass their children with their pride. One boy stood off to the side on his own. Orihara-kun’s parents did not show up that day. I do remember a fleeting moment of pity for my classmate, but was quickly distracted by my parents giving me sweets. I don’t think Orihara-kun had ever mentioned his parents before. I know that he had a mom and a dad, but nothing else.

 

In middle school I saw Orihara even less now that there was no recess and we had only English class together. He had withdrawn from his classmates more and became a loner, and as mean as it sounds, I don’t think anyone noticed his lack of presence. He was still a star student from what I could see. He took to English effortlessly and always attracted hordes of desperate students just before exams, but other than that he didn’t really talk to anyone. If I had to guess, I’d say he spent a lot of time in the library. I would see him from the corner of my eye every day through the windows on the library’s doors as my friends and I passed to get lunch, his nose pressed into a book that looked as if it weighed more than him.

I remember being at the supermarket one afternoon, reluctantly running an errand for my mother, when I saw Orihara-kun there with a shopping cart full of groceries and arms full with two rowdy toddlers who looked identical, trying to read a shopping list while loudly declaring the treats they thought were missing. He had looked exhausted, but his eyes held a sparkle of amusement that I had never seen before. This was the first and only time I had seen any part of his family.

Then one spring morning Orihara-kun was not in class. Apparently he had stabbed one of our classmates, Kishitani Shinra. I didn’t know Kishitani very well, he was an oddball that people actually avoided, but I did see him and Orihara walking the halls together a few times and chatting like friends. It was then that people, myself included, began to actively avoid Orihara-kun. Who had stabbed his one consistent friend in the stomach with a 2-inch blade.

Kishitani never pressed charges so Orihara-kun never went to jail, but at this point had gained a very bad reputation that could never be salvaged.

As a side note, Orihara’s parents did not show up for his middle school graduation either, but this held even less importance now.

 

In high school Orihara and I had three classes together. I only know this because he was on the roster and showed up to ace his exams. Other than that I hardly saw him in class. Now that Orihara-kun was skipping classes almost every day he had the attention of the school. It may seem contradictory, but if you think about it, it’s not contradictory at all. They say negativity sticks out and I couldn’t agree more.

I was actually out sick the day Orihara Izaya met Heiwajima Shizuo. I, of course, had heard of Heiwajima-san, and I avoided him at all costs. Though I was afraid of Orihara-kun, he was not nearly as violent as Heiwajima. I remember returning to school and asking my classmates what I had missed, expecting a few lessons I’d have to catch up on. Instead they told me that Orihara and Heiwajima met, and I felt the blood drain from my face. Apparently half the school had been destroyed before Heiwajima had chased Orihara off school grounds and into the city where he was hit by a truck. As terrifying as Heiwajima’s power is, this story had increased my fear of Orihara-kun because he had escaped without a scratch. I remember hearing a rumor that he had paid the truck driver after he hit Heiwajima, making people think Orihara had planned that and paid the driver to try and kill him. While I can’t say for certain that this is true, I would not be surprised if it was. Orihara had proven himself smart and ruthless enough to pull it off.

But Heiwajima walked away from the incident unharmed as well. He and Orihara fought almost every day since, each battle intense with mutually obsessive hatred. The pair had quickly become something of a school legend and nobody could talk about one without the other. They had become a set.

For months I believed the loathing was mutual.

Then one afternoon when I had stayed afterschool, I saw Orihara-kun alone by the shoe lockers – bathed in the orange light of the sunset, casting a long, dark shadow. I quickly hid from him behind the wall, though I’m not really sure why. Maybe I just wanted to avoid a confrontation or any awkward conversation, but for some reason I had gotten the distinct feeling that in that moment I could not let him see me.

Soon I figured out why I felt that way.

Orihara-kun was talking to himself in a low voice, which was not all that surprising as I was already sure he had to be crazy. What was surprising was what I caught him saying. I couldn’t hear all of it, but I managed to catch:

“Stupid girl thinks she’s going to confess to _my_ monster…” Followed by the sounds of tearing paper. “Shizu-chan is _never_ going to notice you as long as _I’m_ around.” A few more rushed tears and the sound of him shoving the pieces deep into the trash.

I stood there in stunned silence a few moments after I heard him leave. Once I stepped out of hiding I went to the trash, too curious not to look, and noticed that the pieces were of a love letter written in soft, careful print. I looked back to the spot where Orihara-kun had stood and realized what had happened.

Orihara-kun had rifled through Heiwajima’s shoe locker, took a love-letter some girl had put inside, and destroyed it before Heiwajima could ever read it.

Orihara-kun was… Possesive of Heiwajima.

It was not often that I understood something that Orihara-kun did or said, but in this moment one thing was clear. Orihara Izaya wanted to keep Heiwajima Shizuo all to himself.

After that evening I began to avoid Orihara-kun at all costs out of paranoia. Every time we passed each other I tensed up, certain that he had actually known I was there that afternoon and was going to gut me while wearing that manic grin he had when he pulled his knife on Heiwajima.

But he had never noticed me. He never turned his blade or his grin on me.

There was only one other time that I saw something that I don’t think I was meant to see. It was after school again and very brief. I was walking out of the building and saw Orihara-kun speaking to an older man, his shadow seemed longer and blacker than it was that afternoon by the shoe lockers. The man was bald, but his face was mostly obstructed by black sunglasses. He wore an expensive suit, stood by an expensive car, and had two other large men with him. I know I stared at them for too long, because the four of them had turned to look at me. This was the first and last time Orihara-kun had looked me in the eyes. His smirk was sharp and chilling, his eyes even more so and filled with a dare to look at him. To speak to him.

I put my head down and walked faster, running from the challenge.

This time, Orihara-kun followed his parents’ example and skipped his own graduation.

I don’t know what happened to Orihara-kun after high school, but if has anything to do with those men he was with that afternoon I don’t want to know. I had gone to a local university and still heard whispers on the streets about Orihara-kun, his name sounding more sinister than ever, and still often followed closely by the name of Heiwajima Shizuo. I continued to avoid the two of them.

A few years later as this city was consumed by its colors and legends, Orihara-kun suddenly disappeared after a particularly bad fight with Heiwajima. I don’t really know what happened that evening. I was sleeping in bed with my wife after a day in the office, staying out of trouble. Some rumors say Orihara-kun was finally dead, but I don’t believe them.

Because soon after Orihara Izaya left the city, so did Heiwajima Shizuo.

I think wherever Orihara-kun went off to, Heiwajima chased him like always. It’s just like Orihara had said to himself after school by the shoe lockers. I can’t imagine Heiwajima paying attention to anything else as long as Orihara’s out there.

**Author's Note:**

> This in my first more serious story and I'm quite happy with it.  
> Yes, I am aware that Izaya did not actually stab Shinra, but the narrator is not.  
> Okay, maybe that's not... Technically how Ketsu ended. But that's what I wanted.  
> I hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
